


Lash Out

by Dynobot_Slam



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Flashbacks, M/M, Merformers, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23059369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dynobot_Slam/pseuds/Dynobot_Slam
Summary: Rung knows Ratchet's six-foot-long, nearly three-hundred-pound secret. He wasn't expecting to get one of his own, much less this puny, aggressive lobster.
Relationships: Rung/Whirl
Comments: 14
Kudos: 77
Collections: Tfp





	1. Not Here to Harm You

**Author's Note:**

> Help, I've fallen into Merformers and I can't get up. 😅

Rung adored Ratchet. They were simply just compatible. They were both older men, and both in the health industry. They even jointly owned an office down on the outskirts of this tiny island that they both practiced out of. 

Ratchet was gentle but cynical and sardonic. He was quick to tell the truth, no matter how harsh it was, so it had honestly baffled Rung when he figured out that Ratchet was lying about something to him.

In truth, Rung never used his training to manipulate anyone, especially his closest friends. It was against his code of ethics, so it was quite strange that without any prompting a flustered Ratchet barged into his office, locked the door, and all but crowded Rung into the farthest corner. 

"A mer, Rung!" He hissed. "I've been nursing a real-life fucking mer back to health, and he's driving me fucking nuts! I swear to god, Rung! He coos and clicks all damn night if I leave him in the bathtub by himself! Every night I have this incredibly dangerous and wild animal sleeping on my bedroom floor! I had to get him a dog bed! _A dog bed_! He still tries to climb in my bed sometimes, and I'm at my wits' end!"   
  
Rung, still in his seat, simply patted Ratchet's hand. "Would you like me to come and do an evaluation? These behaviors are odd, but maybe I could glean something from him. Mers and humans often have many psychological traits in common, due to our shared ancestor." At Ratchet's suddenly constipated expression, Rung let out a puff of laughter, soft and quiet. "Oh, don't make that face. You know how I enjoy wildlife, mers in particular."

Ratchet shook his head, but that didn't change that four days later, Rung was at his home, sitting on his living room floor, offering a literal hissing Drift some candy. Drift looked frantically between him and Rung growling and hissing as he did. Rung simply handed the candy to Ratchet who plucked it in his mouth immediately.

Rung produced another candy, put it in his own mouth, then tried again to get Drift comfortable enough to accept. The growling stopped, but anytime Rung moved, Drift still hissed, so he slowly lay his hand down and rolled the treat to Drift. The white mer sniffed it cautiously, keeping his eye on Rung, but refused to take it. 

Ratchet came over to him and took the candy into his hand. He knelt down and Drift looked at him quizzically before clicking warningly at Rung. Ratchet popped the treat into his own mouth for a sec before offering it to Drift who scrunched his face before opening his mouth just the slightest. 

Ratchet popped in the candy and stood up, motioning for Rung to come a little closer. The psychologist did, and Drift only hissed a little, allowing Rung to sit on the couch he had previously been guarding with his life. 

Ratchet also sat on the couch, and Drift drug himself to rest against the doctor's legs. "He knows some words. Little shit even named himself. Drift, evidently."

Rung perked up with that information. "Can he speak human languages?" He looked to Drift and asked him. "Can you speak human?"

Drift wrinkled his face but shockingly shook his head as if he understood. Rung's eyebrows flew into his hairline. "Ratchet, have you considered that mers are perfectly sentient, just like we are?"

* * *

Months later and Drift knew plenty of words. He had healed up quite nicely as well, his injuries fading into pink scars along his back and belly. He even started getting along with Rung who came over to visit more frequently to teach Drift their language in exchange for information about mers.

Drift's personality bloomed as his knowledge of the language did, and he turned out to be quite mischievous. He would hide himself and pickpocket Rung for all the candies in his pockets. He was quick and silent, surely a deadly hunter, but he was also unerringly kind. 

When Ratchet had to see him off back into the ocean, it had been a sad time for both doctors and the mer. Rung had kindly patted Drift's long crest and pressed candy into his palm. Ratchet had just nodded, and with that, he plopped back into the ocean, hopefully, to never be seen again. 

It was two and a half years later that Rung was awoken in the middle of the night by a frantic Ratchet. He threw on his shoes and drove down to the other man's house, still in his orange pajamas. He was let inside when he got there and was immediately affronted by frantic clicking and hissing. 

A trail of blood lead into the living room and Rung was loathed to follow it. Drift had brought another mer, an injured one at that. Apparently, he was ferocious, too. As Rung came around the corner, he could see why. 

The blue crustacean had a gouge where his eye should have been; his pincers were mangled and bleeding as well. Long, open lacerations littered his body and culminated in the ridiculously-sized pool of blood under him. Drift was laying half over the poor creature, cooing and clicking softly, but it only seemed to aggravate the—lobster?—even more.

Rung cleared his throat and steeled himself when one piercing yellow eye locked onto him. He crouched low and procured a candy from somewhere. He popped it into his mouth then pulled out another. He scooted forward while a low growl built up in the blue mers chest. Rung stopped halfway and reached out his hand to Drift who took the candy and put it in his own mouth. 

Rung scooted forward just a little and pulled out another candy, holding it out for the injured mer. The next second was a blur, but Rung came to with the snarling creature on top of him, sharp, serrated teeth drooling on his face as painful pincers pinned his arms to his sides. Rung winced when those pincers tightened, but lay there still, not surrendering but not fighting back. 

Those sharp teeth snapped in front of him, and he flinched but kept face. The growling he could feel through his chest slowly dampened though not going away. Rung took a breath.

"Easy. I am not here to harm you. I just want to help you. Poor thing, you don't have to lash out," his calm voice came easily, gently. He really did want to help this injured mer. 

A sudden weight knocked the wind out of him, and he wheezed for just a minute before catching his breath. The next thing he knew was that Drift and Ratchet were pulling the unconscious blue lobster from him. He looked longingly at the poor thing, his heart already telling him that he couldn't let him suffer.


	2. Open Up

Rung sat down with Ratchet at the dinner table, shivering slightly in his thin pajamas. He held the warm mug of spiced tea close to his chest to warm up a little before taking a sip. He set the mug down just as Ratchet sat. Drift drug himself over and leaned against Ratchet's legs. It was quiet for just a moment.

"What the hell happened, Drift? Who is he?"

"A...friend, Whirl. He was a part of my pod at one point, but I haven't seen him in a while. When I found him, he was floating like this. I think poachers got a hold of him, but I'm not sure."

"How long did he fight you, Drift? Will he still be dangerous when he wakes up?"

"I'm not really sure. He's always been violent, but the way he was thrashing earlier, it was like he didn't really have his core in it."

"With how injured he is, I'm surprised he was able to fight at all. He's lost his right eye, and his claws will take at least two months to heal before he'll be able to use them again."

"Ratchet, I think there's something more here. My gut feeling is that he'll need more than just physical medical care. I'd like to watch over him while he's in your care."

Ratchet nodded. "I figured you'd say that. It's alright with me; with any luck, you'll be able to get him comfortable enough to relax a little bit. Drift never fought me as hard as Whirl has, warmed right up to me."

Drift blushed but nuzzled into the hand Ratchet pet his head with. Ratchet gave him a fond pat before taking a drag of his coffee. Rung politely said nothing about it, instead tapping his slender fingers against his mug. He hoped that Whirl would come around once he knew that he was safe.

Rung sipped from his mug and relaxed, letting the adrenaline and panic slowly melt from his shoulders. He had Drift to translate this time, and he was sure that if Whirl was given time to adjust, he would be perfectly fine. Rung finished the last of his tea and stood up. Ratchet stood as well. 

"He's pretty doped up, and I don't intend on changing that anytime soon. Feel free to come by tomorrow, but it's late, and we both have to be in the office in the morning. Take the big coat on the rack, you'll freeze in this weather."

Rung nodded, very tired and ready to go home. He bid Drift and Ratchet goodnight and slipped on Rachet's coat before heading out and back to his house.

As soon he hit the bed, Rung was out. The thing he knew, it was morning. He drug himself out of bed and wearily made his way to the bathroom; he was in desperate need of a shower. Once that was done, Rung nursed a thermos of tea while he drove into work.

Thankfully, the day went quite well. Most of his patients had been those struggling with less severe issues and those who simply needed someone to talk to. Rung was very fortunate. He found himself driving back to Ratchet's after work, wanting to check up on Whirl.

Drift was still there, lounging in the living room where Whirl lay resting on the couch. No doubt Ratchet would have to replace it with how much blood Whirl had shed on it.

The poor thing seemed to be sleeping and Rung laid his things down to come take a look at the skinny creature. Whirl like he was made of skin and bones and nothing more. His scales were dull, even the webbed crests on his head were drab.

Rung lay a gentle hand over Whirl's head as slept, letting his warmth seep into the other's skin. Whirl was a little dry, so Rung got up and decided to sponge him down. He worked quickly and efficiently, taking care to keep bandages dry. Once he was moist, he little better, and his breathing came a little easier.

* * *

The days came and went much the same. Rung came to Ratchet's to tend to Whirl as much as he could, and slowly, they let up on the sedatives of the feisty mer. Surprisingly, Whirl had taken to Rung just a smidge, though that didn't mean that Rung got away without bitten fingers and temper tantrums him.

Rung was feeding Whirl this day, small bites of mackerel, and teaching him English, when Whirl decided to make a move. He grabbed Rung's hand and placed it on his scalp, letting the orange-head figure it out from there. He didn't have to wait long before tentative scratches were administered, and he closed his one good eye to enjoy it.

He wasn't stupid. Eventually, the two humans would sell him back to that lab, but for now, he would use them to his advantage. He'd let the grumpy one tend his wounds, and he'd let the gentle one feed him and give him scratches. All he had to do was bide his time. 

As soon as they opened the door, to the people in white in, Whirl would do as much damage as he could and bolt. No way was he ever going back, and if he had to murder to do it, then oh well. They shouldn't have fucked with him in the first place. 

The hand on his head didn't stop scratching even as the food was still handed to him. Whirl cracked his eye open and spied a soft smile on Rung's face, though he couldn't read the man's eyes behind his dorky glasses. 

It was such a pity that he'd die if he tried to stop Whirl from leaving. He gave the best scratches, and his hands were always warm and soft to the touch. Whirl wondered what Rung's house was like. Was the beach close? Maybe if Whirl didn't kill him, he could find his house and enjoy his scratches all the time.

Rung finished feeding Whirl, still scratching gently at his scalp. The mer was purring lightly, just enough to assure Rung that he was enjoying himself. It was likely that no one had ever taken care of the lobster, judging by the way he reacted to being feed and scratched. 

It was strange though considering that Whirl wouldn't let Drift groom him. They had been in the same pod, a family unit. There was no reason for Whirl to mistrust Drift, at least none that he could think up off the top of his head.

Rung patted Whirl kindly and stood up to place the dirty plate and fork into Ratchet's dishwasher. He washed his hands and returned to sit next to Whirl. While he was sitting and relaxing Drift came over, probably wondering when Ratchet was coming home. 

Rung reached into a pocket and pulled out candy for Drift, letting him take it, before letting him know that Ratchet had had an emergency that he'd needed to take care of. He picked out another candy and held it up for Whirl.

"Open up, and I'll give it to you."

Whirl's eye widened then slanted into a slit. What was Eyebrow's game here? Was he really trying to get Whirl to trust him, and why was he so friendly with Drift? Any self-respecting mer wouldn't let humans this close, but Drift was able to eat out of Rung's hand, so Whirl thought, "Fuck it."

He leaned up and nipped the candy out of Rung's hand making sure that his sharp teeth barely grazed his fingers. The candy was sweet and a little tangy; it melting slowly against his tongue, and Whirl found himself giving into it completely.

A soft hand found the long fins down his jawline and scratched underneath them lightly. Later on, Whirl would blame it on the amount of sedatives he was on (which was a fair point), but he started purring openly, loud contented rumbles of pleasure. He heard Eyebrow's soft chuckle and trilled back lightly. 


	3. Are You Injured?

Everything had seemed normal when Rung arrived at Ratchet's. Nobody came to greet him, but that wasn't particularly unusual. He's assumed that Drift was just in the bathtub soaking up some much-needed moisture. As he entered the living area, he noticed something off.

It was quiet, deadly silent. Rung took careful steps into the living room and made to call out when a thick object struck him and someone's hands grabbed at his mouth. Instinctively, he went along with his assailant, keeping quiet and going down willingly. Soon enough, he realized that it was Drift holding him and shushing him silently.

The mer slowly let go of him and brought Rung's head around, pointing down the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Rung was confused at first and retreated behind the couch to ask Drift what was happening when he heard a soft trill.

Familiar with all sorts of mer noises but unable to categorize this one, Rung looked to Drift, shrewd eyes searching the darkness in the hallway for any sign of Whirl. The trill came again, and even though Rung wasn't familiar with this noise, he was able to place emotions to the long, drawn-out tune.

Whirl was hurting; his call was a keening cry, warbled and desperate but so obviously being repressed. Rung was surprised he could hear it at all. He looked over to Drift who shook his head, but when that low cry came again, his legs raised him and he started toward the hallway, heading towards the bedroom where Whirl must've been holed up. 

As soon as he stepped foot into the doorway, the keening stopped. He came a little closer, looking into the darkness and trying to find the lobster. He came close to the bed when he heard it, a low growling hiss. Rung stopped and the hissing quietened just a bit. "Whirl?" He tried. "It's only Rung. Are you injured?" 

Nothing answered him but more guttural noises, but then he heard another sound, soft hiccups between growls and hisses. Whirl was trying to choke back his pain with anger and ferociousness. 

It hurt Rung's heart to know that Whirl felt like he couldn't trust anyone although he'd known it for quite some time. He'd hoped that Whirl would have believed Rung when he'd said he cared and didn't want to hurt him. 

Carefully, slowly, Rung got down on his stomach to look under the bed. Not stupid enough to stick his hand under where Whirl had squeezed himself painfully in the furthest corner, Rung kept his body out of Whirl's savagely guarded space. 

His gaze met a wild, slitted yellow eye, and abruptly, Rung knew what was happening. Whirl was having flashbacks. Rung gentled his voice and kept his movements to a minimum. He kept reminding Whirl where he was and that he was having a flashback, but it didn't seem to help.

In a lapse of judgment, Whirl's predicament tugging his heartstrings, Rung reached out to Whirl. Naturally, the blue mer lashed out and snapped at his hand, drawing blood but not doing serious damage. Rung didn't move though. He just laid his hand down and let it be.

* * *

At some point, Rung had fallen asleep, but a strange sensation on his hand roused him. He pursed his lips and lifted his head, adjusting his smudged glasses. He moved them off of his face before looking over to see what was going on with his hand. 

Rung squinted but could see and feel exactly what was going on. Whirl hand his hand cradled in his claws and was licking his wounds. Once the lobster saw that he'd noticed, he bared his fangs in a warning.

Rung nodded and watched the mer work, putty in his claws when Whirl came out from under the bed and started to groom his hair, licking and scritching, careful as can be with his claws. Rung allowed him this, letting Whirl destress and perform natural social activities. He even groomed back as much as he could, scraping at old scales to loosen them. 

In the dark of Ratchet's guest bedroom, they didn't say anything. They only groomed each other, humming and purring in equal measure. Both pretending that they were alone in the world, and both comforting and being comforted. Neither knew it, but this was the moment they'd learned each other's true self. A bond formed between them, something steady and stable in a world that was often not so. 

It wasn't until Ratchet got home later that evening that they separated. Drift had let them alone, too familiar with how people could lash out when they felt threatened, but Ratchet had no such reservation. He marched in and demanded to know what had happened only to fall short when he found Whirl curled around Rung, both snoozing. He decided to let them wake up on their own and instead elected to bother Drift about the details. He never expected for Rung to get so close; he'd hoped that he wouldn't. Taking care of mers was dangerous and just shy of illegal. 

Ratchet couldn't blame Rung though as Drift lifted himself onto the couch to snuggle close. Ratchet put an arm around Drift, petting his side gently, as the mer purred happily. He really couldn't blame Rung seeing as he had done the same and gotten attached to a mer of his own. 

Unbeknownst to the four sleeping, someone watched from the shadows. His master would be pleased that they found the little escape artist, and it was even better that the only people there to protect him were two old men and another mer. The man backed away from his vantage point and made his way to the blacked-out vehicle waiting for him. He climbed in and adjusted his tie while he spoke to the chauffeur. "Take me to headquarters. I have a meeting with our Prime."

* * *

Rung woke back up first, groggy and a little sore, but warm and content. He started rubbing Whirl's head, comforted by the mer's presence. He blinked for a minute before realizing that he couldn't quite see. He moved his other hand, patting around for his glasses.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and placed his spectacles into his palm. Whirl stirred and shifted, grunting as he got up. He leaned heavily onto Rung and huffed. Rung smiled and patted his head softly, getting to his feet himself with Ratchet's help. 

"You know it's not good to sleep on the floor, Rung. Your joints will get stiff."

"Dear Ratchet, some things you just can't help I'm afraid." 

Ratchet chuckled and Rung followed as he walked out of the room. Whirl followed closely behind, quiet and unnaturally subdued. As Ratchet went into the kitchen to put on the kettle, Rung sat on the couch, letting Whirl come and lean on his legs. 

The heavenly smell of oatmeal, eggs, and bacon flitted out from the kitchen, making Rung's stomach growl. Whirl's own stomach growled in solidarity, and Rung's hand fell to his head again. 

Ratchet came back with a steaming mug of coffee and one of tea which he handed to Rung gently. As the orange-haired man brought the mug close, his hands absorbed the warmth comfortable. He hummed with comfort and blew on the liquid slightly before sipping. 

It wasn't too long after that Ratchet brought out the food, setting up the tv-tables for himself and Rung and laying the other plates on the coffee table for the mers. Rung laid his cup on the table and took a centering breath. He knew what was going to come next.

"Thank you, Ratchet."

"Don't thank me yet. I want all the details of what happened last night. Why is your hand injured, and why did I find you laying in the floor?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank ya'll for for the continued support! ^0^

**Author's Note:**

> So, this does not have a scheduled update timeframe, and it could take a little while for this to update. Thank you for all feedback.


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